


Bad Timing

by LyricalTwilight



Series: Twilight Missing Moments [3]
Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst and Drama, Book: Breaking Dawn, Cullen Family - Freeform, Cullen Fluff, Family Feels, Fanfiction, Gap Filler, Gen, Human/Vampire Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Movie: Breaking Dawn Part 1, Protective Carlisle Cullen, Twilight Gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricalTwilight/pseuds/LyricalTwilight
Summary: During the birth scene in Breaking Dawn, Alice got Carlisle on the phone and then "clipped a little blue earpiece under Rosalie's hair". When Rosalie lost control around the blood, Jacob sent her flying into a wall, and "the little speaker in her ear crackled into pieces". Apparently, Carlisle was disconnected. This is Carlisle's POV, because losing contact couldn't have been fun.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Edward Cullen, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale
Series: Twilight Missing Moments [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862119
Comments: 5
Kudos: 79





	Bad Timing

**.:Carlisle's POV - Bad Timing (The Birth):.**

Emmett sat with his legs swung over the bank of the stream, feet barefoot and dangling in the water. Esme sat cross-legged beside him. I stood close to my wife. She watched me a few minutes, before taking my hand and running soothing circles across my palm with her thumb. However, no matter her means for relaxing me, I felt nothing but tension, worry, anxiety about what was to come.

It was only yesterday that I, along with my wife and three of our kids, had left the house with a desperate need to hunt. The threat of the Quileute wolves had held us captive in our own home while my pregnant daughter-in-law slowly deteriorated due to the rapidly growing fetus inside her. Whatever it was, it was more akin to an immortal than Bella's fragile human body could stand. No matter the amount of hope Bella was prone to harbor, the circumstances were unnatural and very, very dangerous. It was a stroke of luck—and Jacob's unintentionally informative remark—that we discovered what the fetus was hungry for. Bella's direct involvement had blinded us from such an obvious theory. Of course the half-vampire baby would thirst for blood.

Although consuming blood certainly helped Bella regain some of her form back, I was cautious of what it meant that this child craved what it did.

Once born, would the little one be in control of his body, of his instincts? How far would he go to satiate his thirst? Would he be just another immortal child, simply birthed a peculiar way? Would we have to kill him in the end despite all our stress and effort now? And then, one had to wonder, if the child _was_ uncontrollable, how much havoc would he wreak before we stopped him? And would Bella still be attached? Would Rosalie? Would either fight, just as Sasha Denali fought for her son? Would either hold a grudge against the one in our family who ended up destroying it? Would the Volturi get involved? How much worse could the situation get before it was over?

There was so much to ponder. It was exhausting, and it had me worried.

However, we had to focus on Bella's survival first and foremost, both now and post-delivery. For that, I definitely needed the hunt. I needed to be at my strongest for Bella's transformation and delivering a baby that, more likely than not, needed a strong set of teeth to get out through the immortalized embryonic sac. The thought of tearing into Bella with my teeth to retrieve the child slightly disturbed me, but what must be done would be.

Hunting was not the only thing on my list this trip. Before I left, we were down to one last package of blood, which would not last long with Bella's growing appetite. In fact, she was probably through with it by now. It was unknown how long she could hold out until more blood arrived. Fortunately, the small amount of blood I had acquired yesterday evening I sent back with Alice and Jasper, who have already arrived home according to the phone call I received from Edward. It was a relief to know they had managed to make it back in Forks as quickly and easily as we all had managed to escape. I had been worried for them when they left Esme, Emmett, and me. The problem we had with the werewolves was a miserable addition to the stress we were already feeling. Especially on our way out of town, the last thing my family needed was a fight; we had been weak from starvation, vulnerable, and although I would not have wanted to harm them, there would have been casualties on both sides.

If it hadn't been for Jacob, Seth, and Leah, a fight would have been exactly what we were in for. I would be forever in debt to the trio for the sacrifices they made for me and my family. This could not be easy for them.

Edward's phone call had been the first good news we'd had in a while, however small.

And I was also happy to hear from my son. When he had called me earlier this morning, it was with more than just an affirmation of Alice and Jasper's safe return home; he had some interesting news. The fact he could reach the child's mind through Bella's abdomen was unprecedented. As Emmett said, it certainly changed the rules of the game. From what Edward told me, the baby was more developed, more aware than either of us could have imagined. If it was not so terrifying, it might have been fascinating.

In any case, attaining human blood was a top priority, and we needed more of it. The supply I sent with Alice and Jasper was not as much as I was hoping for, and with the increase of Bella's thirst, she would drink it up within a day or so. So Esme and Emmett dutifully stayed with me as I went to try a second source. The quick trip proved successful for the most part; I managed a couple cases more. But, even so, I was afraid it simply was not enough.

Of course, Edward did not think it was necessary now. That we should just return home with what we had. He wanted me to deliver the baby as soon as I was back. Although I trusted his judgment on the course the situation had taken, I informed him that I would ascertain Bella's and the baby's conditions firsthand before making a decision. I wanted to be cautious; there were too many things that could go wrong. However, it was true that, taking Edward's discoveries in my absence to mind, he was right about it being madness to hold off on the procedure when the fetus was clearly developed beyond what we had guessed. If the baby could, indeed, catch on to what Edward and Bella were saying, even to the tiniest extent, it was clearly more advanced than any human child I ever delivered. It was too dangerous to delay the procedure if we could know, for certain, the fetus was fully grown.

And how could I deny Edward?

Where Bella had been physically suffering, Edward had been mentally. I could hardly bear it anymore. How many more unforeseeable mistakes could Edward make? How much must he fail while trying to do the right thing, even when there was no probable outcome of failure that not even I could have warned him about? How many more times must my son face losing his mate, by his own doing, after being alone for so long? How many more errors must Edward endure before it was enough? After all he went through, after everything he learned, why should he continue to suffer? Why—when all he had ever done was his best, sometimes against everything he believed in? He has put so much faith in things he never had before, all for Bella. His struggle and growth into the man I always knew he could be filled me with the utmost pride, as a father and as a close friend. Edward's sacrifices could not be wasted.

I found myself wishing, more than anything lately, that there was a point to this madness. This ordeal was, by far, the worst we've had to deal with, and I prayed for Edward and Bella, for this family, even for this newest addition… I prayed there was more to this, that perhaps it could be some kind of blessing, that the nightmare was merely a disguise, the final trial before the peace my son and daughter-in-law deserved, before the happiness all my children and my wife were meant to have.

I brought Esme's hand to my lips and kissed her fingers. It was true Edward and Bella were not the only ones suffering.

"Everything is going to be okay," I whispered against my wife's soft skin. Esme looked at me curiously. I did not meet her gaze, but I could tell she was wondering who I was trying to convince—her or myself? It hardly mattered where my statement was directed, as long as it turned out to be the truth. After a moment, I added, "It is all going to be fine, in the end. Somehow."

Emmett was looking at me now, too. He lifted his head upward, at the glowing white sun barely visible behind dark clouds, then looked back at me and asked, "Are you sure it's worth it to stick around for the extra blood? It sounds like Edward's pretty sure we don't need it, and I'd like to get back to Rose."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Emmett, but returning with more blood is pivotal."

"Even if you deliver the baby right away? Bella wouldn't need to drink anymore. Not out of a cup, anyway."

He would be right if I did not have other concerns.

"I'm afraid it isn't merely about Bella."

"You're worried about the baby?" Esme questioned when I didn't continue.

I nodded.

"I can't rid my head of the idea that once the baby is born its natural inclination to blood will be difficult, if not impossible, to tame. The more blood we gather on this trip might prove tremendously essential for satiating the newborn's thirst with little chaos. I can't be positive, but we also can't take that risk if we can help it."

Regardless of my desired precautions, there was only so much even the most respectable doctors could obtain from a blood bank. Additionally, I did not have a single ID with me that did not have Carlisle Cullen printed on it. I had already used my name at the first bank, and I did not want to raise attention to myself or my family. It was pure luck—with a bit of persuasion—that, after gaining a few cases from this second source earlier today, I would be able to get three more cases by sunset, when a new shipment of the blood type I needed was due to come in.

I had anticipated a delay, of course. Estimated we'd be home by noon tomorrow with a couple hours leeway in mind. However, the task of waiting was tedious. Emmett wanted to return to his mate's side; Esme and I wanted to get back to our children. Being away from them now, for so long, was uncomfortable. Possibly necessary, but quite unbearable.

Emmett bowed his head, kicking at the surface of the stream. "I guess I get it. I just keep thinking they'll be attacked or something…" Esme tensed, and I tightened my hand around hers reassuringly. Emmett had paused. I could feel a question reeling in his mind. Knowing Emmett, he would voice it soon, so I waited.

"Do you think she'll make it?" he finally asked.

I knew who he was referring to, and I didn't want to say 'No'; yet, at the same time, I could not truthfully say 'Yes'.

At my hesitation, he clarified. "Bella. I mean, it's clear her human days are over, but… I've been trying not to think about it, of what could happen, then and after. Now that we're close to that time, though, I'm finding it harder to ignore it. We haven't found anything helpful or positive about this half-bred kid. We have the werewolves breathing down our neck. We don't have a lot in our favor, you know? Whatever happens, I just want to know if Bella has a good chance of staying with us—for Edward, if anybody. I mean, damn… And I want to be optimistic, but I'm not finding it in me, and I'm kind of pissing myself off."

Emmett's voice had risen by the end. The situation had been plaguing him more than he'd been letting on.

Esme placed a hand on his back. "It's not you, dear. I know how you feel. All of us feel worn out and a little helpless. That's all it is. There is nothing wrong with you. You're still the same Emmett... It's quite _unfortunate_ , really."

The lighthearted sarcasm from my generally peaceable wife actually elicited a smirk from our second son. Esme gently nudged him.

Seeing the playful sides of Esme and Emmett re-emerge, even faintly, was like a patch of sunshine during a hurricane.

"The answer to your question is very complicated, Emmett," I said, earning their acute attention. I sighed, beginning to feel the weight of my own stress. My role in the family had brought a certain level of significance to my opinions among the others; they always took care to listen, which never failed to flatter me or motivate me to be the very best for them. It would kill me to ever let them down, as I have in the past.

"We all have faith, I do not doubt that. Every one of us will do anything and everything we can to help. I believe Edward's theory is also correct. If we are proactive about this, Bella's chances of survival will increase."

The sliver of lightheartedness from a moment ago vanished when Emmett wondered, "And if we don't get the chance to act first?"

My eyes skimmed over Esme's, and I knew she was picturing exactly what I was: The bulge of Bella's stomach contorting, expanding; little feet kicking and crushing bones; sharp, tiny hands clawing their way through flesh; an overflow of pulsing red blood, possibly too tempting for one of us to resist; a red-eyed child struggling to free itself from the womb, unintentionally ripping apart his own mother to do so; Bella, torn open and lifeless on the floor, just as the mothers were pictured in the dhampir legends we spent days researching. The images were horrific, and the aftermath would be even worse.

I couldn't bring myself to respond to Emmett's question, but I was sure he understood, for he did not press me on it. He read the legends as much as the rest of us, probably more.

It was disheartening to realize that all the medical equipment I was privileged to own, that every member of our household who was prepared to take on the toughest tasks ahead, that all the support we were blessed with might still not be enough. We were in dangerous territory, precariously treading through tenebrous waters. For this reason, more than any other, I felt perseverance and determination would be crucial to overcoming what none of us were truly ready to face.

"We'll be home soon," Esme said suddenly. "Let's focus on that."

It was easy to agree with her. But then, after two hours passed and we were still lounging in the same spot, still waiting for the manager I had spoken to at the blood bank in West Field to call me to confirm the shipment had arrived and was ready to be picked up, the thought of being home went from hopeful motivation to dragging anxiety.

By the third hour, there was finally a buzz from my pocket.

My phone was on its second vibration when I lifted it to my face. I paused when I saw it wasn't a private number.

"What is it?" Esme inquired.

"Alice is calling," I murmured.

Concern crinkled Esme's forehead, and from the corner of my eyes I saw Emmett's muscles tense. I tried not to wonder what they were thinking as I flipped open the phone.

"Hello—"

_"Carlisle, it's happening!"_

Every fear I possessed came slamming back into my mind.

_"Bella made a sudden movement and… Edward and Rosalie have her upstairs. She's in and out of consciousness."_

Emmett's head snapped in my direction; Esme's mouth was open, but there was no sound. The world around us froze, though we could only fear… Only assume…

_"They're saying the placenta detached!"_

Esme's gasp echoed Alice's cry, and instinct overrode my shock. There was no time for fear.

"How long ago was this?"

_"Just now. A couple seconds ago. I can't see a thing…"_ She whispered the last part to herself, the words full of terror. In the background, I could hear shouting from another room.

"Keep calm, Alice. All the necessary equipment is there and ready."

_"Oh God…"_ She whimpered again, before saying, _"I'm putting you on the headset."_ The echo of the background changed. _"I'm handing you over to Rosalie."_

"No, give me Edward. Alice!"

She hadn't heard me. Rosalie was suddenly hissing in my ear.

There had only ever been one time Rosalie, usually poised and dignified, was frantic with fear. She had burst through the front door of the house we had currently been living in, with a man in her arms who had been dripping with blood due to a gruesome bear attack. Rosalie had thrown her pride aside and had begged me to save him. That same man was staring at me now, eyes wide, fists clenched, never comfortable with stress, because he heard it as well as I could—that same desperation was in Rosalie's voice once again, now. She was pleading for my help, no matter what it cost her.

Within a couple seconds, Rosalie informed me of the details of what had happened and where it had led them to so far. It was a testimony to how bad things were. My children were in a frenzy, and they hadn't wasted any time in calling me, which was good. At the end of her hasty explanation, Rosalie declared what I already understood.

_"Bella's already hemorrhaging, and the placenta's detached. The baby is struggling inside her. We only have eighty seconds, at most, to perform the C-section! Tell me what I need to do!"_

"You need to get the child out as fast as possible. The table to the left of the door has all the equipment you need. I will guide you through the process, but it will not be easy, Rosalie. First, use the scalpel to pierce an 8-inch incision across Bella's lower abdomen. Then you need to tell me—"

_"Let the morphine spread!"_

I heard my son's frantic outcry and felt an ache in my chest.

_"There's no time. He's dying!"_

Conscious or not, the pain Bella was surely feeling had to be excruciating for her. The child's own suffering was not going to be any help. Unfortunately, however, Rosalie was right. The baby needed to be extracted from Bella immediately, for Bella's and the baby's safety. Edward had to understand this.

I shot a brief glance at Esme and Emmett, who had remained silent throughout, merely listening with deathly intensity. Esme had her hands clasped over her heart, her head down, eyes closed, looking every bit the part of an angel in prayer. Emmett was glaring with concern, uncomfortable with the uncertainty. Our worst fears had come to life, and somehow it was worse not being there to see it firsthand; our loved ones were experiencing the nightmare we had been dreading, while we could only support them from afar.

"Rosalie, after the incision is made, you need to tell me if the embryonic sac has been punctured at all." I had my doubts, but I needed to know one-hundred percent if I was going to guide her into the next step, which might very well be the hardest.

Rosalie did not respond to me.

"Rosalie? Rosalie!"

There was a low intake of air, barely loud enough for me to catch, with a ghost of a snarl that was distinctly…thirsty. Rosalie's breathing changed and, suddenly, the fact both she and Edward had not hunted in weeks rushed to the forefront of my mind. The feeling inside me only worsened with Edward's deafening roar.

_"No, Rose!"_

Everything turned into a blur of chaotic sounds. There was a thunderous clash and the clang of fallen metal, followed by the sounds of breaking concrete, smashing stone, splintering wood, and shattering glass; a slithering hiss, mixed with a guttural growl; a fierce, broken snarl. The speaker in my ear fizzled with static and, then, there was nothing. Everything on the other end of the line went silent, vanished. I shouted for Rosalie, but there was no answer. The weight of the world felt like it suddenly collapsed, throwing me and my family into a darkness so unknown I feared there was no resurfacing.

OoOoOoO

Esme's hand was in mine and we were running faster than we had ever moved before. Every now and then, I would hear Emmett swear or slice through a tree—anger being let out in the only was he knew how. Our previous quest for blood had been abandoned. We had run out of time. Home was our only destination, and there was a deep fear within us concerning what we might return to.

It had been a risk I thought willing to take when leaving Edward and Rosalie alone in their thirsty state, and then adding another day to our absence. Perhaps my decision to wait around for blood I wasn't one-hundred percent certain we needed had been wrong.

"They haven't hunted for weeks!" Emmett suddenly yelled, spitting the words out like they were toxic, as if they were the sole cause of his distress.

Esme's grip on my hand became vise-like. Venom felt thick in my throat, making it impossible for me to get any words out. Every sector of my mind was in turmoil.

I remembered the dangerously black hues of Rosalie's eyes before we left the house. Rosalie and Edward had both needed to feed as much as the rest of us. But Edward could not leave Bella's side, and Rosalie did not trust him to be alone near the unborn child. Too stubborn for their own goods, they were starving themselves, a sacrifice now made worse by the abrupt change of conditions, forcing them to deliver a baby through torrents of blood, and paying the price for not satiating themselves sooner.

For strong-willed Rosalie to break… What about Edward? Or Alice? Where was Jasper? Was Rosalie stopped in time? Had her bloodlust been tamed? Who fought her, and how? Did someone get hurt? Were they still fighting—Edward, trying to defend a fragile, dying Bella from his thirsty siblings, all the while attempting to save her from the baby simultaneously? To succeed in that would be…dare I say impossible? Or perhaps it was Jacob, Seth, and Leah who were defending my helpless daughter-in-law from the vampires; except, then it would be too late. With Rosalie undoubtedly unable to withstand the temptation of blood, Edward was Bella's last and only hope of living through this nightmare.

_Why?_ Why did it have to happen while I was away? We were so close. If only I was there—if only I had been there the moment something went wrong. Perhaps it was a vain belief that my presence would have affected the outcome at all, yet I truly wondered if things might not have had to turn this disastrous. If I had done something different… Made another choice… I did not know where in the post-honeymoon timeline, but if I had made a contrary decision could certain things have been avoided, such as this?

The further we ran, the more consuming my fears became. When you were cut off from the ones you loved, ones who were in peril, and you had hundreds of miles to run before you could reach them, there was a feeling of helplessness, frustration, and panic that could not be avoided.

After a while, the ideas of what would happen if Rosalie had not been stopped by now were the only thoughts I was envisioning, the images on a perpetual replay:

Bella's heart would give out. The child would be lost. Edward would harm Rosalie instinctively and then he, too, would be lost to us forever—mentally, if not physically. Alice would hold an eternal grudge against herself and others, no matter how hard she tried not to. The wolves' tolerance would break, resulting in an attack. And Rosalie would be burdened by all of this; her small acceptance of her immortal life would shatter along with everything she would feel she'd destroyed in her only lapse of self-control in seventy plus years.

A situation we had thought was already as its worst surpassed its peak with the consequences of Bella's reflex to catch her falling cup, my distance from where I was needed, and finally reaching its unprecedented climax when Rosalie lost control.

Even worse for Esme, Emmett, and me: There was no knowing what was happening.

Halfway home, I tried to contact Edward's and Rosalie's cell phones and Jasper's twice. Not one of them answered, heightening my emotions. If things had settled down, one way or another, they would have contacted me by now, wouldn't they?

It was in that moment that I reminded myself I had faith in my children. With all their remarkable strengths, I believed there was very little they could not overcome. Perhaps, despite Rosalie's moment of weakness, or even in spite of it, every person in that house was fighting harder than they ever had before. For all I knew, my silent prayers for them could be answered through them alone, by sheer willpower, for they also knew they had a lot to lose if they failed and, like so many other times in their lives, they refused to take 'No' for an answer.

Nonetheless, not knowing the outcome of the struggle I had heard—and was sharply disconnected from—made it very difficult not to worry. Whether it be tragedy or victory that awaited us in Forks, it was terrible to merely wonder. Esme, Emmett, and I—we've been through this before. When Alice and Bella were courageously risking their lives to save Edward's in Volterra—that had been the bleakest moment in our family's history. There was little hope then; I had seen no reason why Aro would spare my children. And yet, they came home. But even though the current situation created familiar feelings of dread, one never grew used to them; one could never just stop worrying. If anything was impossible, it was that.

Yet, I learned and re-learned over the years, with the help of stern, encouraging words of gentle wisdom from my wife, that no matter the nightmares my mind might conjure up, no matter the odds of success or failure, I had to keep my faith where it belonged—in my children's strengths.

Fifteen minutes of lush greenery, rocky terrain, and tense silence passed, and I was contemplating the idea of calling home relentlessly until someone picked up. At this point, it didn't matter who it was—Edward, Jacob, Leah, anybody. As long as I was given answers, I would not care if it was Charlie Swan whose voice I heard from the other line.

Just as Esme and I cleared the width of a river, with Emmett ahead of us now, my phone buzzed, rendering my previous thoughts unnecessary. The phone was at my ear before I even had time to look at the caller's ID.

"Hello?"

"Carlisle, Alice told me to call you."

"Jasper. What happened? When the line was disconnected, Rosalie was—"

"Rosalie's regained control. She didn't touch Bella—Alice and Jacob got her out of the room in time, and I calmed her down with the best of my ability; granted, it didn't take much. Rosalie was strong enough to comprehend what was happening, and she let Alice and I win her over easily."

It wasn't hard to miss the proud grin that Emmett suddenly possessed. Rosalie's self-control had always been remarkable, which of course made her slip up that much more shocking.

"Currently," Jasper continued, "she's taking care of Renesmee, who is asleep and also unharmed."

"…Renesmee?" I repeated, perplexed.

"Erm…the baby."

Curiosity sparked within me.

Ren _esmee_ —as in Renee and Esme? As in a little girl? Sleeping? I wasn't expecting… Was the child truly just like any precious child, only separated by growth, strength, and appetite? How much was she like us, and how much was she human? What did this mean?

"Renesmee is very strange," Jasper said, as if sensing my questions, "but she isn't wild. I've only seen her once. From that, I understand that she listens to what we say; tries to understand us, at the very least. Though I still think there's a lot we don't know about her and should be cautious about, she is far from an immortal child. She is loved here."

My curiousness was instantly coupled with a feeling of warmth. The way Jasper spoke of her like a favored niece aroused more questions, but also relief, hope, and a secondhand love for the newborn I couldn't describe. And I wasn't alone. I could feel Esme's sudden longing to meet this undeniably unique little one who shared her name.

"But, Carlisle…" A hard solemnness overtook Jasper's tone. "Bella is…"

At his hesitation, all warmth left my body.

It took a moment for Jasper to find the words he wanted. "From what I understand, Edward did everything he could to keep Bella's heart pumping long enough for the venom to reach it, and we're hoping whatever he did was enough because her heart is still beating…albeit faintly. Very faintly. I witness many transformations in my southern days, but the humans being turned were always strong and healthy, and screaming, to say the least. Bella is too still, too quiet."

"Her heart is beating?" I double-checked, picturing what he was telling me. In 1921, Esme's heartbeat had been low enough where humans could not hear it and they had pronounced her dead; yet, her transformation had turned out perfectly successful.

"Yes," Jasper confirmed.

"If her heart has even the slightest beat, she is alive."

"It's what we're assuming. Her stillness makes us uneasy, though."

" _That_ is something I have not encountered before. But from what you've told me, it sounds like Bella should be doing fine…" A lot better, at least, than what my imagination conjured up, which could have very nearly been the truth without Edward there.

"How is Edward?"

"Edward won't talk to anybody. He won't leave Bella's side or let Alice get too close. His emotions are…" Jasper trailed off, unable to describe what he felt. I suspected he did not need to tell me—I could imagine what Edward was going through. Jasper finished, saying, "I don't believe Edward will listen to anything we have to say, Carlisle, without you here to assure him yourself."

No, I didn't believe he would, either. He might not even listen to me. Edward could be stubborn, obnoxiously so in some cases. It was part of his passionate personality. And yet, if that exact persistence was what saved his child and mate, the occasional annoyances were insignificant.

"We are hurrying home as fast as we can," I told Jasper, hoping he would pass along the message. "Give us an hour."

Emmett and Esme nodded their heads, anticipation coursing through them. Smiles were not on their faces. The apprehension was back in place, solely for Bella's and Edward's sake. We've been freed from our fears about Rosalie and the baby. Now, the result of Edward's toil was all the remained to be answered. Bella's condition sounded bad, but her continuous heartbeat was a testament to my son's efforts. Like my own mate's heartbeat all those years ago, Bella's gave me hope.

OoOoOoO

Less than an hour had gone by when we neared Forks' border. We kept in mind not to let down our guards entering the territory around our home. The Quileutes' standing was unresolved still, as far as I knew.

Emmett, Esme, and I had been pushing our bodies to their speed limit the entire trip; nearing the final mile, we pushed even harder.

Then, finally, we were close enough. My thoughts reached him, and I heard his voice—his call.

"Carlisle!"

Edward.

Esme released my hand and pushed me forward. "Go," she ordered. I ran faster than she did, and although I could not leave her behind me when we were to enter the land around Forks with potential danger actively searching for us, we had made it now, and she didn't want me slowed down. I left her with Emmett.

When the house came into view, Alice already had the front door open for me. I quickly noted Rosalie was in the living room, a newborn baby in her arms, bundled up so much I could not see her face. Jacob was also in the living room; he had his eyes on the child, though he did not look hostile or way. Seth and Leah were in wolf form, sitting just outside the south glass wall. I could not sense where Jasper's location was, but I assumed he was staying cautiously away from the scent I smelled emanating from the room I was racing toward—the scent of blood. A lot of blood.

The scene that awaited me upstairs was gruesome. Edward met me by the door, pitch black, frantic eyes boring into mine; pale face smeared crimson. Behind him was a scene straight out of a horror movie massacre, with Bella's bruised and blood-splattered body lying limp and frozen directly in the center of the destruction. My daughter-in-law, quite frankly, looked terrible. Imagining what she went through filled me with my own sense of pain. However still she was, it was a miracle her body was still functioning enough for the venom to take effect.

My thoughts were doing absolutely nothing to help calm Edward. I should have realized he'd be listening intently to my observations, regardless of the basis for them being merely a first impression, not a thorough inspection. After my final thought, he quite literally dragged me over to Bella and begged me to tell him what he did wrong, as if he was certain he had messed up.

Looking Bella over, checking her vitals, noticing the trail of teeth marks down her arms and legs, guaranteeing a greater amount of venom was rightly overriding her body, I had nothing to lead me to the conclusion that Edward had done anything wrong.

Unable to accept that, Edward jumped into his perspective of what had happened. He told me the events in order, granting me access to his personal thoughts, as well as every detail from the time Bella vomited the first fountain of blood, to Rosalie's lapse of control; from Jacob's struggle to keep Bella breathing while Edward removed Renesmee, to Bella's spinal cord injury; from Bella's faded heart, to Jacob's cold departure from the scene and Edward's final acts of desperation over his dead partner. It was then in which I interrupted, astonished.

"You did what?" I demanded, louder than necessary.

"There was no time, Carlisle! I had already stored my venom in the syringe, just in case. I didn't want to have to use it, but—"

"Edward, Edward," I said, forcing him to stop. He misunderstood where I was coming from. The fact he had thought ahead, on that particular fact, caught me off guard, but at the same time it completely amazed me. His idea to store his venom in a syringe to plunge directly into Bella's heart should there not be enough time for the venom to spread from a regular bite mark was ingenious.

Edward relaxed a fraction, reading I didn't think he had done anything wrong.

"I must have, Carlisle," he argued, turning to look at Bella. "She's not moving. Her heart is barely beating. And you thought it yourself, she looks…terrible." His voice quivered unnaturally at the end. He turned farther away from me, to hide his face.

I shook my head, resisting the urge to comfort him through any physical gesture. "She looks no worse than Esme did, Edward. Or Emmett, for that matter. Her heartbeat is strong for her condition, and although slowly right now, it seems to only be getting stronger. If you had failed— Edward, look at me. If you had failed, she would not have a heartbeat at all right now. You know this. If your venom was not in her system, doing what it is supposed to be doing, she would be gone. She is still here."

By the look on Edward's face, I could tell he was still very uncertain, fearful that he made a mistake. _But I assure you, Edward, that you did absolutely everything right._

"Then why isn't she moving?"

… _It could be the morphine._ "You did say she had more morphine in her than Emmett ever had the chance to get—I can smell the amount in her system. Perhaps immobility is an unexpected side effect."

Edward sighed, seating himself on a chair he'd settled beside Bella's hospital bed, and threw his head in his hands. He clenched fistfuls of his hair. There was nothing more I could say. I had given him my opinion of the situation and he would have to accept that all that was left to do was wait.

I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. Edward and I hardly demonstrated our affection for each other in ways that weren't subtle, but I wanted him to know I was here with him. I wanted to remind him that I would stand by his side as whatever he needed me as.

"I know," he whispered, surprising me by responding to my thoughts at all. "Thank you."

_Always, Edward._

As he sat quietly, I gave Bella a second examination. I tried to look at it as objectively as I was capable, not wanting my desires to affect reality. Still, I found her heartbeat strong enough and rising. Edward's bite marks were strategically placed—a fact I would have unashamedly gushed over him about if it was any other circumstance—and the venom straight to her heart worked wonders. The fractures throughout her body reminded me of Esme's mangled limbs. I remembered with perfect clarity the sorrow and anger that overcame me after laying my eyes on Esme that day, and I knew it was how Edward was feeling right now. And yet, if Esme was the comparison, look how beautiful she turned out to be.

I also noted that Bella's appearance might not look as shocking and worn if she was washed up and dressed.

Edward lifted his head at my last assessment. Not a full second went by before he seemed to agree, for Alice's exclamation of "Finally!" echoed through the house. Alice must have been waiting for Edward's resistance to die out. I listened as she ascended the stairs, headed for her bedroom, rummaged through her closet, and then turned on the faucet in her connecting bathroom to fill a bowl up with water. Even from where I stood, I could feel her exasperation with Edward for keeping her away when all she wanted to do was help those dear to her in the only way she could.

It was a pain that was mutual in me. Not that Edward kept me out; rather, I also wished I could have been here to help him and Bella when they needed me most, even if Edward ended up not needing my assistance at all.

"I did need you."

I smiled softly.

_No._ "You didn't. You have everything under control, even when you worried otherwise. Edward…" Before I could berate him for still not recognizing his own strength—though I was sure once Bella's eyes opened, things might change—Esme and Emmett's arrival captured my attention.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long before my wife was cooing over a baby girl—a baby girl I had yet to meet, who apparently, by my wife's animated descriptions, had her mother's eyes and her father's face, with hair the traditional Masen bronze.

My eyes found Edward's, and though he wasn't looking at me, I noticed the endearment he held. Listening to Esme and Rosalie, and even Emmett, fawn over his daughter, the pride of a father that I knew all too well shone in Edward. Being a father was something I never thought I'd be blessed with. It was something I did not know I could dream for. The first time Edward addressed me as his father was one of my most cherished memories. Now, my son would feel the same elation and solace I felt the day I found him. Witnessing my son become a father himself was indescribable.

"I have never been more proud of you, Edward," I said.

He looked up at me. Although it was brief, and tainted by concern over his wife's weak condition, his answering smile was genuinely happy, and it was all I needed.

Bella would be fine. She would wake, she would be beautiful with Edward, and they would raise their daughter. It did not matter what odd quirks we discover in Renesmee—I had hope for the future.

Every fear, every nightmare I constantly fretted over this past couple of weeks, up till these past two days, were all very real problems. There had been no telling what the outcome of Bella's pregnancy would be. Bella's future could not be predicted, the baby's future was unknown, and this family was riding a fine line. Due to all of this, I had concluded our luck terrible. When the birth began, it did little to sway my opinion—I was beyond miles away, disconnected, and Rosalie was unable to assist Edward with what would ultimately be life or death for every party involved. I blamed myself more than anything, whether it was an illogical sentiment or not. Everyone else simply thought the timing was horrendous.

Yet, now, I thought of Edward's unyielding persistence, his inventive preparedness, his composure when surrounded by the darkest bedlam he had ever encountered, alone and without guidance. He had managed to deliver his child and transform his mate successfully, out of deep love and great willpower. Edward surpassed every expectation and overcame each obstacle in his path with inspiring tenacity. I doubted I would have had his passion. When this was all over, I had no doubt Edward would finally see in himself what the rest of us had seen all along.

Hence, I felt that there had always been a greater force at work here.

Edward would not have had the chance to grow so wise if the timing had not been bad. He would not have had the chance to prove to his family—as a father and husband—that he was strong enough to protect them, to care for them, if the timing had not been bad. He would not have had the opportunity to show _himself_ that he deserved every bit the happiness God intended him to have if the timing had not been bad.

Maybe, it seemed, it had never been "bad timing".

It had been perfect timing. Everything falling into its rightful place in our lives, all for a bigger, better purpose. For Edward.

Now that my fear and panic had dissipated, I realized this was one of the best days of my life as a father.

Greater still, I wondered what promises the future held for this family with the birth of an innocent, precious child, a product of my son's love. Could Renesmee not only be the means of redemption for us, but the proof?

Once again, Edward smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I always wondered about what was going on with the three Cullens who weren't home during the birth, so I decided to write it.


End file.
